Author: Aleš Podbrežnik
Photos: Aleš Podbrežnik
Location: Tolmin / Sotočje / Slovenia
Concert date: August 25, 2017
Attendance: 400
Ticket price: €79.00 (three-day pass)
And then came day two of the first (and historic) edition of the »Motörcity« festival in northern Primorska, more precisely at the idyllic spot where the Tolminka and Soča rivers meet. It’s where a whole bundle of the most important festival events in Slovenia go down each year, at least when you weigh the programming credibility and (especially genre) consistency of their lineup.
At a quarter to seven in the late afternoon, Slovenian hard rockers Stray Train hit the stage. In a relatively short time together, this band has made some exceptional leaps on the road to wider recognition, well aware that the Slovenian market is far, far too small for the group’s appetites and vision. Stray Train have broken through onto the international scene. The springboard was their excellent and craftily polished studio debut »Just ‘cause you got the monkey off your back doesn’t mean the circus has left town«, released last year, which carried them to, if I’m not mistaken, a full 40 shows with Blues Pills and Kadavar. The number 40 doesn’t even sound »scary« until you add the fact that those forty shows were played in a mere 43 days. Truly worthy of all respect.
I finally caught the band on a concert stage for the first time, too. The chance had finally come my way. Stray Train are a crew of excellent, seasoned musicians: Luka Lamut (vocals), Jure Golobič (guitar), Boban Milunović (guitar), Niko Jug (bass) and Luka Čadež (drums). They served up that kind of tightness in Tolmin as well, from the first second to the last. The high level of being locked in was all there: the sensing of each other, the proper day-to-day working chemistry on stage, the savvy use of the stage, and the sheer force of their playing. Luka Lamut naturally took the lead with vocals tailor-made for the style the band cultivates. In that respect we have to admit that bands of Stray Train’s caliber are sorely lacking in Slovenia these days. Only a minority play hard rock in Slovenia today. Stray Train are a band that builds extremely charged, spiked guitar riffs and infuses them with a hefty bagful of blues. You can actually pick out the influences of legendary seventies rock bands in the style, but Stray Train deliberately keep the sound a little modern-smudged, »ripped-up garage«, with the guitars tuned lower, too. Luka Lamut impressed with his polished stage performance and an exceptionally pleasant, well-crafted »hard rock« voice (especially by Slovenian standards and circumstances), with a nice measure of authoritative melodiousness plus some rasp, and at moments a fair dose of sophisticated sensitivity. Boban and Jure added excellent, polished soloing in the mid-eight passages, with Jure’s unexpectedly virtuoso escapades grabbing the lead and the attention. The compact, grooved-up rhythm section puts the dot on the »i« of perfect credibility and confidence in the band’s stage shows, which also brimmed with heart and commitment. The band played a mix of songs from the current album and the upcoming new studio record, which is already in the can but announced for official release this December. Sixteen songs, an hour and fifteen minutes of a tight and wildly infectious show, with the following originals going by: Soulseller, Wish I Could Be Free, Wanderman, Electrified, Heading for the Sun, Days Gone, Green Card Paradise, Emona, Blues From Hell, Blow, My Baby’s Ride, Mad Machine, No Easy, House of Cards, Give It Away and the closing Man or a Stone. We’ll definitely be back at more Stray Train gigs. And with great joy!
Next up was a ragged-and-glorious outfit that has likewise taken enormous strides in barely three years toward the heart of the current music scene. That’s especially true in Slovenia, but they’ve also had their baptism of fire, gathering and swapping experience on a months-long »ramble« across the USA. Of course, we’re talking about Prismojeni profesorji bluesa, who proceeded to set the stage ablaze with a heaping helping of clowning theatrics. We’ve written a lot about Prismojeni profesorji bluesa at RockLine, but never enough, because that’s their very essence. They’re a blank sheet of paper. Whenever they stand on stage, you never know what the concert-goer is in for. They keep delivering their charming axiom with great skill: »Expect the unexpected!« So Julijan politely asked the audience several times during the show to bear with the somewhat long pauses between songs that the band needs for tuning on the fly, and with the fact that he simply can’t predict where one of their songs will carry the band amid all the cosmic improvisation. Jam # 32 (I hope I caught the number right), the almost mandatory Ragin Mad from the debut album, knotted into a 20-plus-minute »solo carousel«. In one number the band called up the brave wind player Roberta, who plays the funnel, with a homemade prop that produces a trumpet-like sound. Roberta had already »teased« the audience with her talent the day before, when Hans Theessink personally called her up on stage because he and Evans needed a sax solo. She ran onto the stage at the band’s express invitation. She’d been »living« with a little family of Tuscan pizza makers who had their camp to the left of the plateau (looking toward the stage). Likeable and a bit shy at first, but incredibly big-hearted, Roberta pleasantly and fittingly spiced up one of the band’s numbers with her sense for improvisation. The band also played new material (the song Vigilante) and announced the imminent release of a new studio album. In one song the excellent harmonica player Miha Erič sat down at the front of the stage and picked up a lap steel guitar, whose gentle wailing blended perfectly with the other building blocks of the sound, of course. Vocals are shared mainly among three of the band (well, all four of them), though this time Miha Ribarič’s FTP didn’t get its turn. It’s incredible how well the guys have studied the division of vocal roles between Miha and Julijan Erič, and especially the particularly interesting performer Zlatko Đogić, who you’d swear was the neighbor of some tobacco chewer holed up in the most remote corner of Texas. Crazy. You can’t describe it in words, you have to see it and live it. Zlatko remains an incredible heavyweight combiner of first-rate drumming and exceptional vocal delivery. And that’s not all. Prismojeni profesorji bluesa kept ramping up their excellent show until it hit its crescendo right at the end. Suddenly Miha Erič jumped on stage in a »bloodied« apron, a mask on his head, brandishing a chainsaw high above him. A real little Chainsaw Charlie of the blues. Absolutely Miha’s moment. Theatrically and vocally. The stage became Miha Erič. The band has no shortage of mischief, and Prismojeni profesorji bluesa know that you have to work theatrical moments like this into the shows throughout, since that’s the real guarantee of their performances’ lasting appeal. The band subjugates the audience instantly with its extremely intense stage show. Add the infectious likability of all four members of the crew, their extraordinary heart and devotion to the magic of music, and it’s all so strong and convincing that this simply opens the door to the heart of every witness to their concerts. The band comes across as down-to-earth as it gets. At the Tolmin show, Prismojeni profesorji bluesa proved once again that they’re not only one of the most special and polished stage acts around, still developing by leaps and bounds in those respects, but also a crew with no shortage of nerve when it comes to flirting with »extremes« in cultivating the clowning theatrics itself (Miha and his chainsaw moment). All through the set, one question hung in the air: when on earth was Julijan going to start teasing the crowd with one of Hendrix’s numbers? The clanging on muted strings soon announced that he’d gone with Hendrix’s Voodoo Chile. The closing act of the concert confirmed once again that Julijan has studied Hendrix down to the last detail. Jimi himself should have lived to see this, if he’d been fated to still roam the planet. The performance. The sound. Vocally as well as in guitar style and approach. Crazy. Wild, extraordinary, a breath-and-wind-taking experience. A band you can’t praise enough in a few sentences of a concert report, a band that literally brings you to the realization that every time you set out to describe them, you feel like you’re writing about them for the first time in your life.
Chris Thomas King was considered the main draw of the second day. The Black multi-instrumentalist, a hugely respected musician on the international scene, arrived in Tolmin without his backing band. He played in a »one-man« production. In the first part he mostly did songs where an acoustic guitar and harmonica kept him company alongside his vocals. In everything he touched, you could pick out a refined blend of delta blues, country folk and soul, and it wasn’t hard to hear how well a female gospel choir would have fit in with King’s chants. Somewhere in the middle of the show Chris Thomas King sat down at the piano and showed off his full mastery of that instrument too, all the while keeping the numbers tightly traceable and holding to the red thread. During the concert the crowd thinned out a bit. The man noticed and made an effort to rouse the few onlookers to join in more actively. In his banter he didn’t forget to thoroughly lash the madness of the new American president’s actions, which is hardly surprising. Let’s rather leave politics alone. The man, who in a few days will give birth to his already 27th studio project, called »Hotel Voodoo«, is famed as a kind of father figure who united blues with hip-hop (rap), but at this solo show, without a band, that didn’t really come through. What stuck in the memory was King’s unique »Oooh-Ooooh« chant, which he repeatedly used to fill the transitions between numbers. He also played Hard Tme Killing Floor Blues, which Skip James performed long ago, and I Am A Man of Constant Sorrow (written by Dick Brunett). Both songs are tied to the film »O Brother, Where Art Dou?«, in which Chris Thomas King also plays one of the acting roles. So that wasn’t missing either. Soulful, with strong emotions, vocally relived and unique. Even though King put on a really lovely show, it turned out that in solo form he was simply too tough a nut for the audience. So there were fewer people in front of the stage than a performer of his caliber deserves. Let’s hope the man comes back. Next time with his band.
Even though the second day’s program on the »B.B. King« stage had wrapped up, the music wasn’t over yet. Right at the confluence of the Tolminka and Soča, down on the bank, Slovenian art rockers Dan D announced their show in the »Tiho« (Quiet) production. Intimate and quiet, then. The Tiho production means a complete restructuring of the arrangements, with which Dan D touched on some of the most prominent and best-known songs in their rich body of work (hits included). To that end the band built homemade, that is, »house« instruments, and alongside other »exotic« instruments they also brought in some extremely fun and interesting handmade inventions, the kind that are born in a musician’s imagination. There were noticeably fewer strung-up bottles this time than in 2012 and 2013, when the Tiho tour was at its peak (the Radenska one, from back when it was still a Slovenian company, was a surprise). Obra left his tuba at home this time, and in Za naju punca it was replaced by him playing a comb. That means Dan D only do the Tiho production as an exception these days, at a promoter’s request or when there’s real demand for something like it. This get-together with the band brought nothing less than great concert pleasure to the gathered connoisseurs. Not only did Dan D prove once again how this tight-knit quintet is still held together by an exceptional camaraderie that has kept the band going through the years, it was also a concert of incredibly cheerful, fun mood that showcased this experienced band’s excellent form on the day. The intimate atmosphere was also boosted by special stage lighting, with bulbs set about a meter above the ground, so the lighting crew could constantly adjust their brightness. Tomislav Jovanović “Tokac” on bisernica and mandolin, Marko Turk “Tučo” on ukulele, bisernica and mandolin, Boštjan Grubar on melodica, bells and vocoder, Nikola Sekulović on a fretless semi-acoustic bass and Dušan Obradinović “Obra” on cajon, congas, tarabuka, cymbals and comb also used an extensive arsenal of props straight out of the kitchen drawer. Playful, cheeky, sparkling and, as always, with a heaping helping of positive vibes and fun. People felt it instantly, and the energy of the back-and-forth between audience and band was extremely tight. Dan D reworked the songs. Some so dramatically that you could barely recognize them against the original. Rhythmically too, with the song Čas, driven into a salsa groove, grabbing attention, for instance. And in terms of the melos itself, the song Tiho, for instance, pulled toward »arabesques« at moments. In short. Anyone who happened to skip the »Tiho« tour more than made up for lost time at the confluence this time. Good energy was of course provided throughout by the exceptionally cheerful Tokac, who asked at the start if anyone had a good smoke handy and later got one during the show, not forgetting to warmly thank the girl in the crowd who gave it to him. Homegrown is homegrown. You just can’t get better stuff. We all know that. Those are the facts.
Dan D played the following repertoire, in this order: San San, Počasi, Rekli so, Plešeš, Pozitivne misli, Polna Luna, Kozlam, Moj problem, Kamn, Voda, Love Song, Čas, Tiho, Tvoje je vse, Daj mi daj, Jutranja, Za naju punca.
Bringing Dan D into the festival grounds’ program turned out to be an extremely wise move. It stretched the revelry into the night, and the drink vendors consequently sold a few more beers and cocktails. The ambience was first-class for the kind of intimate sophistication that the «Tiho« production brings. Gnarled willows, gray alders, tall ash trees bowing to the confluence of the two rivers and greeting them with a nod, mists rising over the water’s surface and inviting you into a mysterious, charming mysticism wrapped in the glimmer of crescent-moon light. And music. Music, music. Everywhere. Quietly, Saturday arrived, the third day of the festival.
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